


Golden Dream

by Rubynye



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-20
Updated: 2011-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard dreams, and then Jim wakes him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 's [Drinks Flash Challenge](http://community.livejournal.com/jim_and_bones/372797.html).

Leonard's dreaming.

He has to be dreaming. There's a hazy golden light in the window ( _of a room in a house that's not there anymore_ ), redolent leather creaking softly across his back ( _his father's chair, then his now gone_ ) and Jim sighing gently over his face, thighs spread over his lap ( _in a chair in a house in a life before they met_ ), steadily rocking up and down around him.

He must be dreaming, because Jim is _behaving_ , because Jim clings to him pliantly as if he'll never let go, his arms draped around Leonard's neck and his hips warm and tangible, flexing skin and sturdy muscle under Leonard's hands. Jim's forehead rests on Leonard's and all he can see is golden light and blue, blue eyes and a smile bright as day as Jim murmurs to him and rides him in a chair he gave up in a room he'll never see again, entangled with him back in a life that's long gone.

Leonard opens his mouth on a gasp and Jim presses that smile to his lips. Leonard's hands curve over his muscle-veneered ribs as they rise and fall, Leonard moans a broken-open noise and Jim hums into him and ---

Cold air slaps Leonard across the face, everything dissolves to a wash of white light and an open window through which Jim is gruntingly plummeting. "-- holy fucking thrice-fried _Hell_ ," Leonard comes up sputtering, jerking upright as he watches Jim's face and left shoulder collide with the floor. "Jim! Goddammit, man, I was --"

"Sleeping, sorry, Bones, sorry," Jim mumbles, a little thickly, and somehow his grin's even brighter set off by a bloody lip, by livid contusions smeared across his face from forehead to right ear. "Didn't mean to wake you--"

"And what were you gonna do about these, then?" Leonard snaps, scrambling forward as Jim elbows his way up off the floor; they meet on the end of his bed, and he grips the unbruised side of Jim's face to get a better look at the injuries. "Who the fuck cleaned your clock, kid?"

"Roof of Sato Institute," Jim answers, setting his hand on Leonard's thigh as he looks down and makes goggle eyes. "Oh, Bones, you _are_ happy to see me!"

Leonard snorts and flips a corner of bedsheet across his lap, a scalding blush pouring down the back of his neck, curling over his ears and into his cheeks. "It's an involuntary parasympathetic reaction," he mutters, shifting a little and trying to ignore the heavy throb of unfulfilment. He could try to guilt Jim for having woken him out of a happy dream, but Jim would just pry the details out of him, and the kid doesn't need to swell his ego the proverbial three sizes by finding out how far he's gotten under Leonard's skin. "Infant," he snarls, and "hold still," and Jim chuckles but obeys, somewhat, as Leonard turns his head and checks him over. "Do I even want to know what you were doing up there?"

"Trying out an alternate route," Jim answers, as if it's normal to scramble over the Academy rooftops like some kind of monkey in undress greys. Leonard lets go, concentrates on the chill of the air pouring through the still-open window, and leans over to grab his medkit as Jim chatters on. "It worked pretty well, actually, at least until I slipped."

"How far did you fall -- never mind." Jim would just halve the estimate anyway. "Your surprisingly hard head seems to be intact, I hate to think of the dent in the roof." Leonard wipes a bit of blood and grit from Jim's forehead. "I'm still scanning you on the hour for the next twelve, though."

"Sounds sensible." Jim moves, of course. Leonard opens his mouth to tell Jim to _stay still, dammit_ before he realizes Jim's leaned forward, before Jim's smile shifts open against Leonard's lips. It's not the first time Jim's kissed him when they weren't actually fucking. It's the third, not that Leonard's counting, and all he sees is the arc of Jim's eyelashes fanned out on his cheekbone and his hair lit up golden by the sunlight.

Just as Leonard's eyes are fluttering shut, just as the warmth welling up inside him is starting to melt his good sense, Jim pulls back again. "Thanks, Bones," he says seriously, his voice husky-edged, his hand splayed warm on Leonard's thigh and his eyes bluer than Leonard could ever dream.


End file.
